


Scenario 14

by rideswraptors



Series: Kastle Scenarios [15]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, see first part for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: Frank goes to Karen first thing. And Madani comes looking for him.





	Scenario 14

Frank Castle fell through Karen Page’s window three days after he killed Billy Rawlins. It was past midnight, and Karen was still awake. She’d not been sleeping much since the explosion at the hotel. Doctors said it was trauma, that it would fade once she got back to a regular routine. Karen knew better.

 

She was worried sick. She was worried sick about the Punisher, and no amount of routine was going to change that.

 

Him falling through her window, bandaged up but breathing definitely did change that.

 

“Frank?” she hissed hysterically, leaping from her place on the couch to shut the window and draw the curtains behind him. Without even thinking about it, she turned off at least two lights, triple checked her front door, and then was on her knees helping him to his feet. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you? Are you okay? Was that you in the park? Five people died--Where have you been? What happened to your head? Who--?” 

 

“Shit,” Frank answered brusquely as he got to his feet, “can I sit down first?” 

 

Karen’s brows winged up as she recoiled from him, incredulous at his tone. That was Prison-Frank talk, not I’m-Checking-On-You-Frank talk. He immediately deflated, a hand drifting apologetically over her elbow. 

 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Long day.” He flopped down on the couch, groaning and looking a little pale. “Don’t have much time. They’re coming for me.”

 

“Who?” she asked absently (someone was  _ always _ coming for him) as she checked over his bandages. Everything was neatly stitched and well tended. He looked hydrated, so wherever he’d been, he’d been looked after.

 

“Homeland. Woke up this morning in one of their black sites.”

 

Karen jerked upright. “Woke up?” Her grip on him must have tightened because he winced, picked up her hand, and kissed the back of it. 

 

“Had some surgery, I guess. Kept me sedated to heal.” She nodded, pressing him to continue. Unwittingly, she had angled herself closer toward him on the couch, all but in his lap. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, just kept holding her hand, thumb stroking over it. “I woke up, remembered what happened, got fixed up by some doctors, and then they put me out again. When I was coming out of it, I heard some guys talking to Madani about their plans for me.”

 

“Which are?”

 

He sighed and dropped his head to the back of the couch to look at her. “Fresh start. New identity. Clean slate.” 

 

She couldn’t stop the smile, “But that’s good, isn’t it?”

 

The next sigh came through his nose, irritated. “Not exactly. I’ve got to get ‘laundered.’ Basically, they set me up in a new place to establish a background before coming back here.” 

 

Karen felt her stomach sink and was annoyed with herself when her voice faltered. “For how long?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“Where will you go?”

 

“Dunno that either.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he turned toward her and squeezed her hand before releasing. “That’s why I came.” He dug into his pocket and produced two things: a picture of his family and a phone. He held the picture out to her. “Can you put this somewhere safe for me?” She nodded a little too rapidly, taking back the picture she’d given him in the first place. Then he handed her the phone. Not exactly high tech, but not conspicuous either. “Keep this on you. Don’t let anyone else touch it. I’ll call you when I can.” 

 

“But--”

 

She clicked her tongue woefully when he pulled his hand away from hers to put the phone in her palm and press it there. He kept watching her intently. 

 

“I don’t have time to argue with you. They’ll know I’m gone by now, and Madani’s not stupid. She knows.” 

 

Karen had to clear her throat to mask the blush. Not that it was effective. She didn’t know how she felt about being the Punisher’s top priority. Didn’t know how she felt about much of anything. Except one thing: this frigging sucked. 

 

“Frank,” she practically whined. He didn’t bother letting her continue. Instead, he ducked forward, bringing their mouths together for a thorough, intense kiss that left her stunned. Not because she wasn’t expecting it, but because she wasn’t expecting to feel so strongly about it. He tried to pull back to keep talking, but she jerked them back together, hands clenched tight in his hair, and kissed him back just as furiously. Lips bruising and teeth clashing, hands groping. 

 

“I didn’t--” he rasped between kisses, “This is not--” 

 

“Frank? Shut up and get naked. Right now.”

 

“Ma’am yes, ma’am.” 

 

*

 

When they laid together, wrapped up in a throw blanket on the floor because they never did make it to her bed not 50 feet away, Karen curled over him, pressing kisses to his chest and up his neck. 

 

“Gotta get up,” she whispered against his skin.

 

“Fuck no,” Frank rumbled back, hand drifting down to her thigh to spread her across his hips. Karen reflexively pressed down, pulling a contented grunt from him. Refractory periods were still refractory periods, however, and not even the Punisher was immune. Regretfully, she pressed kisses alongside his face, to the pads of his cheeks and corners of his eyes. 

 

“Yeah, they’ll be here soon. Don’t need to--”

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .”

 

“Told you.” 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Make me.”

 

He did. For a good long minute, he kissed the crap out of her. Until the person at the door knocked louder. 

 

“ _ Fucking _ \--Wait a goddamn--!” The knocking got louder, interrupting him. Frank let out a rueful sigh, and looked back down at her, hand cradling the top of her head. “I hate that woman.” Karen just shrugged. 

 

“Hasn’t busted the door down yet.”

 

He lifted his brows at her. “Yet.”

 

Inexplicably, it made her laugh harder than she had in a while. He nuzzled at her face, kissed her thoroughly one more time, and then got up to put his clothes on. She sat on the floor, wrapped in the blanket, and handed him various articles. When he was finished, she held her hands up to him. He gripped them tight and lifted her from the floor right back into his arms. She shivered at the drag of his clothes against her naked skin. Frank danced his hands along her arms as he kissed her, and guided them up around his neck, preventing any space between them. 

 

“Keep the phone charged and your windows locked.”

 

“Uh-hmm.” 

 

“Stay away from lowlifes.” 

 

“Sure thing,” she answered around his kisses.

 

“I  _ mean it _ , Karen. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

 

She pressed another lush kiss to his lips. “I’m never stupid.” 

 

He sighed, eyes lifting heavenward. “You know what I mean.” Karen chuckled and bit at his chin. “Be  _ safe _ .” 

 

She pressed hard pecks to his lips as the person at the door started shouting. “I will. Mom’s calling for you.” 

 

Frank lifted his brows. “I hate her.” 

 

“C’mon,” she laughed, nudging him toward the door. “Purgatory awaits.” 

 

He pulled her against him when they got to the door, trapping her there.

 

“Fuck it, let’s go out the window,” he whispered harshly. She slid her hands along his arms to lace their fingers together and put some distance between them. 

 

“Go. Be good. Mind your manners. Don’t kill anyone. Get your ass back home,” she said opening the door to a thoroughly irritated Madani. She shoved Frank through the opening, herself squarely hidden behind the door, and Madani started talking. Something stupid probably. Karen didn’t hear her because Frank lurched back to kiss her again before three rough looking men came to escort him out. Madani was scowling, but Karen didn’t give a shit. 

 

She’d just fucked the Punisher. 

 

Madani glared at her. “What did he tell you?” 

 

Karen smirked back at her. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. Bye.”

 

And she slammed the door in her face. Felt good. It felt  _ real _ good.

 

*

 

For the next four months, Karen kept herself busy. Real busy. She was pushing out two or three articles a week, setting huge metaphorical bridges on fire, ripping New York’s rich and powerful to shreds with ease. Thankfully, she’d made new friends in the wake of Matt’s supposed death and Frank’s very fake one. She met up with Trish and Claire regularly, even got drinks with Jessica on occasion. Danny and Colleen and Marci invited her to all sorts of events, and she met up with Foggy every couple of weeks to drink Tequila and talk about Matt like he hadn’t vanished. All the while, she kept the phone in a pouch close to her person, hidden under her billowy blouses. 

 

It never rang during the day. They always scheduled the next call before they hung up. But she never even slept with out of reach. In fact, she slept with that phone, pouch strapped to her. It never dropped below a half charge. She never turned it off. 

 

They always talked on a different day at a different time in the evening, but they talked. Sometimes for five minutes, sometimes for an hour, sometimes longer. The sound of his voice became the best part of her week. And those were the only nights when she was home, really. Being there, otherwise, felt too lonely and too dark. She didn’t want to feel like she was waiting. Even though that’s exactly what she was doing. 

 

She kept the picture safe for him, too. The day after he left, she took it to a shop to have it put in a thin resin. Sure, she could always print out another one, but this one was special to the both of them. It was her own way of making sure Maria and the kids stayed with them. Her instinct was to frame it, put it up on the wall. But that wasn’t protecting Frank. So she slid them, safe and sound, in between the pages of  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ . Right next to her brother. 

 

It was almost 4 months to the day when Karen was scheduled to go out with everyone. And by everyone, she meant everyone. Jessica and Trish, Luke and Claire, Danny and Colleen, Foggy and Marci, even a few people from work had agreed to meet up. Because it was Karen’s birthday, and she had no desire to be alone or to be reminded why she had to be alone or that she was going to be alone for the foreseeable future.

 

She thought she’d done a pretty good job pretending, keeping up appearances, making it seem like she was doing fine. But there was no one who saw things more clearly than one Jessica Jones, their spunky, alcoholic private eye. 

 

Jessica was sat across from Karen, fingering the neck of her next beer while everyone around them chattered and socialized like they weren’t a bunch of fucked up, superpowered vigilantes with neurotic complexes and serious mommy issues. Karen, obviously, tried her best to enjoy herself, but she couldn’t help but toss furtive glances into corners, out the window into shadowed places, always watching. She couldn’t help but look, even though she knew. She knew he wouldn’t be there. Not yet anyway. Jessica caught her last look before she settled fully in her seat.

 

“What gives, Blondie?” she asked, kicking out at her lightly. “You chasing a story?” 

 

“What?” she spluttered, “No, of course not.” She shrugged. “Just...always a little on edge these days, you know?” 

 

Jessica pulled a face, leaning forward. “No. No, I don’t. Because you’re not looking over your shoulder, you’re looking  _ for _ somebody. I know that look, Page, I’m living it.” 

 

Dark eyes met blue and held quite intensely for a long moment. Jessica had confessed that she was still not over Luke a couple months back. Maybe that was why she and Karen spent so much time together; a mutual understanding of not being able to have what made you happiest. Still, Karen faltered. She didn’t know what to say. It would have been easy to play it off, say that she missed Matt, but it felt disrespectful somehow. To both of them. Jessica saw her opening. She leaned forward, voice at a whisper so as not to draw the attention of their cohort. 

 

“This is about Frank Castle, isn’t it?” 

 

Karen startled. She knew Jessica was good at her job, but she was starting to believe that her strength wasn’t the only thing supernatural about her. 

 

“I don’t--I mean, no! Why would you even ask that? Frank is...I don’t have anything to do with…” she trailed off as Jessica’s brows went up skeptically, and bit her lower lip. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and tried not to make direct eye contact. It was too embarrassing. 

 

“Right. Sure. Of course,” Jessica said snidely, leaning back in her seat. She tipped her bottle toward the opposite side of the bar. “That’s why he just came back from the dead on your birthday, and showed up at the exact bar you’re celebrating at.” 

 

Karen froze completely, an icy cold shot of adrenaline went through her veins and her blood pounded in her ears. She felt the skin on her neck prickle and she shivered, but she didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to look and see that this was some fucked up game Jessica was playing with her just to get confirmation. She didn’t want to turn around to be disappointed and reminded. 

 

“Jess…” she hissed out warningly, not at all in the mood.

 

“See for yourself.” 

 

Karen inhaled deeply and decided that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for  _ someone _ to know. Even if it was the alcoholic with no verbal filter whatsoever. She couldn’t resist the temptation any longer (and hadn’t been doing so for months), so she turned.

 

And there he was. Sat at the end of the bar, on a stool, a whiskey in front of him. No cap, no hood, no bruises. Just a few days of scruff, a healthy look about him, and a broad smirk as he watched her unabashedly. 

 

Karen didn’t even realize she’d gotten up.

  
  


*

 

Jessica watched Karen automatically get up and walk all zombie-like in Frankie-boy’s direction. With a smug grin, she took that as her cue to play wingwoman and confidante. So she chugged her beer, belched far too loudly, and hollered at Trish.

 

“Hey Patsy!” she laughed, “Tell us about the sex dream you had about Claire and Foggy!”

 

The whole goddamn table erupted. 

 

And no one noticed Karen was gone. Mission accomplished.

 

*

 

Karen kept walking, eyes locked on Frank. She cut a couple off from walking up to the bar, and not-so-forcefully moved a man out of her way on her trek to him. Frank watched her approach, not moving a muscle, but smiling all the same. 

 

They came together fluidly, snapping together like magnets. She threw her arms around his neck and he all but caught her, lifting her from the floor. Their kiss was open and messy and maybe a little too intense for public viewing. Karen didn’t care. When he set her back on the floor, she clutched his neck with both hands, inhaling and devouring every ounce of him that she could. Didn’t even care that her cheeks got wet from the silent tears that slipped. He stopped their kiss with his mouth, gentling her, nuzzling. She chased and he mollified. A few customers around them grumbled and moved away, but Karen didn’t pay them any attention. She opened her eyes to see Frank smiling at her, his big brown eyes darting all over her face. 

 

“How are you here?” she asked, knowing her chin wobbled from the effort to speak without crying. Frank had his hands splayed out on her waist, holding her steady, and he dropped his forehead to hers.

 

“Happy birthday, love.” 

 

*

 

Karen’s friends didn’t notice her leaving with the grand exception of Jessica. She mouthed  _ call me _ at Karen with a lewd wink. Karen just laughed and let Frank slip an arm around her shoulders as he led her outside. He did ask if she wanted to say goodbye to any of them, as they were out to celebrate with her, but she shook her head. 

 

“I’m sure Jess will come up with some excuse.” 

 

Frank accepted this far too quickly in favor of pulling her into a side street to make out. 

 

*

 

The group did, in fact, wonder where Karen had gone when things got quiet again. They looked around, asking each other. Claire suggested they check the bathroom. And that’s when Jessica remembered that she was wingwoman. 

 

“Oh right!” she shouted, sitting up suddenly. She slapped the table a couple of time, “Uhm, right. Yeah. Headache!” She snapped her fingers in victory. “Blondie had a headache. Said she’d text ya tomorrow.” 

 

They looked at her incredulously.

 

“Text who?” 

 

Jessica floundered for half a second and then decided she didn’t care. 

 

“All of you. Duh.”

 

*

 

Karen, naked, sweaty, and coming down from the high of another orgasm, got the text a few hours later. She tried to read it properly while Frank kissed the back of her neck and shoulders, trying to coax her back. It took her a second to fully comprehend what she was reading. 

 

_ JJ: Lol. Funny story. You have cancer. Told everyone.  _

_ JJ: And you need to text everyone tomorrow. _

_ JJ: Tell them it’s operable.  _

_ JJ: Recovery is like 3 mo. You can go on vacay right?  _

 

Frank groaned pathetically behind her. 

 

“Who the fuck is texting you right now?” he whined, reaching for her phone. Presumably, it was to throw it at the furthest wall so it would shatter. Karen batted his hands away and texted back a scathing reply telling Jessica exactly what she thought of her stupid plan. 

 

“Quit! Just a second!” 

 

“I will break that phone--”

 

“You will not. Hush.” 

 

_ JJ: Fuck off  _

_ JJ: I’m the best wingwoman in existence. _

_ JJ: You owe me a crown _

_ JJ: And whiskey _

 

Karen did toss her phone under the bed after that.

 

“My friends are lunatics,” she informed him morosely, not at all sure how she was going to come back from sudden cancer. Frank didn’t seem overly sympathetic. He just tucked her under his big body and ran his hands down her sides lovingly. 

 

“As long as they’re  _ quiet _ lunatics, who cares?” 

 

Karen moved up to kiss him, pulling him back down to the bed with her, smiling into their kiss, and just so damn happy to have him back in her arms.

 

After all, he was probably right.  

  
  
  
  



End file.
